Welcome back to Sammy Taylor's attempt to understand his growing attraction to the hillbilly heaven of his family, even though he's pretty sure it's making him gay.
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"God knows the air's -- well -- it's just sweet when I get out up here," I said aloud after I'd passed through Seneca Friday afternoon. It was a lot more than just fresh. It was sweet. I could actually taste it. Well, almost.
It was invigorating, too. I hadn't realized how tired I'd become the past week until I started perking up after I passed Gainesville. And I was really perked up now that I was through Seneca and almost to the mountain. The only thing I could see that was different was this sweet, fresh air I was breathing.
I wasn't thinking of moving out of Atlanta, though. Not by a long shot! I loved the city and the stuff that was always happening in it. The city was also where I made my living.
I did know a good thing when it punched me in the nose, however. And Taylor Mountain was a good thing. I could see myself spending a lot of time out here just communing with nature and breathing it in.
I could see spending some time with Cousin Henry, too. I grinned as my pecker jerked its approval of that idea. Somehow, I just didn't see Brenda out here on the mountain with me. Not her or any other woman.
That was bothering me less than I'd thought it would. The fact was that I hadn't thought much about her since she started in on us praying together Wednesday night. I'd thought more about Paul than I had her.
I was a little embarrassed about passing out on him just as he was about to fuck me, though. When I'd woken up Thursday morning, I was alone and my asshole didn't feel like it'd had a work out. I figured he'd been a gentleman and left me to sleep off my drunk instead of taking advantage of me.
I'd left a note earlier asking him to look after the cat for the weekend, but I didn't see him. I hadn't seen him since Wednesday night, and I hadn't gone looking for him. I hadn't been avoiding him -- not exactly, anyway. I'd see him when I got back to Atlanta and apologize.
I reckoned that I had two things to apologize to him for. One was passing out on him, but I also needed to tell him I was sorry for leading him on. I'd sort of wondered what it'd be like having him between my legs; but, now, I knew I wasn't ready to let anybody take me. Not him and not Henry. Not yet, anyway.
Even thinking about it felt sort of like I was cheating on the blond of my dreams. If thinking about it made me feel uneasy, I didn't want to know how I'd feel after I'd actually let somebody do me.
I turned onto Taylor Access Road. I was looking forward to resting up over the weekend. I passed Ralph Taylor's house and thought of Henry again.
As I rounded the bend above their house, I saw him leaning against a fence post and watching my car approach. I slowed down and my pecker started stretching under my jeans.
"Hey, guy!" I said out the window as I came to a stop in front of him.
"I was wondering when you'd be getting up here," he told me as he pushed off the fence and took the couple of steps to the car.
"How'd you know I'd even come this weekend?" I wondered. "I do have a life in Atlanta, you know."
He laughed. "Once a Taylor gets a gander at the mountain, he's hooked. Your Daddy was the only one I've ever heard about who got away."
"Okay. Dad was always more machine than human; that probably explains him breaking the Taylor Mountain spell." I looked meaningfully at his basket and then moved my gaze up to his face. I arched my brow theatrically and asked: "Got anything planned for the next couple of hours, Henry?"
He laughed and rubbed his crotch. "I was thinking about that, too, Cousin."
"Hop in then. There's a really comfortable bed up at the house."
"I'd better walk it." He waved as a pick up drove by. "I don't want to be that obvious to anybody on the mountain." He looked over his shoulder at the field and the trees on the other side. "Give me about fifteen minutes, okay?"
I nodded and shifted into first gear. "See you then," I told him as the car started to move. I watched him in the rearview mirror as he hopped over the fence and started walking fast toward the trees.
No, I didn't think that Brenda would fit into my life up here on the mountain. As I turned into the drive to the log house, I was pretty sure she didn't fit into any of my life anywhere any more. Maybe I was more queer than bi, but that didn't bother me now as it had last week.
But, then, I was good about things like that. I'd always adjusted easily to how things were and went with the flow. Once I'd gotten used to the idea.
Besides, I liked a tight, hot chute working my dick. Last week, Henry had sure seemed to like it working his fuckchute as well. To my way of thinking, that meant that a good fuck worked for both of us.
I'd work on him staying the night once we were in bed together. Once I'd re-introduced him to my pole, I figured it'd be hard for him to say no.
I was carrying the last bag of groceries up the path to the house when Henry broke through the trees.
"You need any help there, Sammy?" he called and trotted across the clearing to me.
"You timed it just right, guy -- this is the last of it."
I laughed and took his hand. "I've always been partial to a comfortable bed, myself," I told him as I led him toward the stairs.
* * *
Henry insisted on undressing me. His lips were butterflies on my face as his fingers went down the front of my shirt, slowly loosening each button until his fingertips moved up over my belly onto my chest and, finally, my shoulders to slide it off me. His face dove for my nipples as his fingers fell to my belt and released it. His tongue and teeth gently worked one and then the other nipple while his fingers opened my jeans and eased them down over my fanny.
He knelt slowly, his lips again butterflies kissing He grinned. "I was always good at figuring just how to get out work. And I did see all those bags in your car when you stopped."
"I've been thinking of you all week," he said and quickly leaned into me and gave me a buzz.
"What?" I cried in mock surprise. "With all those boys around I saw at the longhouse Saturday evening? You should've stayed busy, instead of pining for me."
He looked down and shoved his hands in his pockets. His complexion got rosy. He didn't say anything, just kept pace with me as we followed the path to the house.
At the steps to the verandah, I set the grocery bag down and, taking his arm, pulled him to me. He wouldn't look up at me.
I kissed the tip of his nose and said: "Henry, I'm sorry for what I just said. It makes me happy that you were thinking of me last week. I was joking with you."
He looked up to meet my gaze then, a tight smile curling his lips. His eyes were misty.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," I said, touching his cheek with my finger. "I really am sorry."
"It's okay, Sammy." His smile broadened. "I guess I was just wearing my feelings on my shoulder again. I forget and do that now and then."
He shoved me playfully and I took a step back. He grabbed the bag from the step. "And, every time, somebody comes along and knocks those feelings right off." He looked back over his shoulder at me as he climbed the stairs; the grin was still there. "Sure seems like I'd learn to look after those little buggers better, doesn't it?"
Henry led me through the foyer into the kitchen and put the groceries on the table with the rest that I'd already brought in. I took his arm and pulled him to me again -- only this time I wasn't aiming for his nose.
His lips opened as mine touched them. He opened his mouth as he hugged me close.
I was hard and the thing was straining against my jeans. I mean, I was hard -- as hard as I'd been last week when I was fucking him. As hard as I'd stayed when I was getting porked by the blond in my dreams. I was a lot harder than I'd been the one time I had sex with Brenda the last week. I understood instinctively what that said about my preferences. It was the same point that I'd already reached intellectually. I was pretty much gay through and through.
My lips stayed locked on Henry's. My tongue wrestled his, locking together with it in their own mating ritual.
Henry's crotch began to grind against mine. My hands went down his back and began to pull his shirt from his jeans. When it was free, my fingers moved beneath it to explore the warm, silky skin of his smooth back.
He broke our kiss and pulled his head back to look into my face. "Sammy, are we going to do it here on the kitchen floor," he asked, "or will you let me have a bed under me while you fill me up?"
my chest and upper abs until his face reached my bellybutton. His tongue darted in then and began to swab me out as his hands eased the denim down my legs.
His tongue trailed down to my boxers and began to trace my hard shaft behind the cloth. He lifted one and then the other of my legs to pull my jeans over each foot while his tongue continued to trace my length through the cotton of my underwear.
His hands slowly stroked back up my legs until they cupped my asscheeks through my underwear. He rose, licking his way up my center until he was licking my adam's apple. His hands moved to the waistband of my boxers and slid under it to cup my bare butt, his arms forcing the cloth over my groin until my hard dick was the only thing holding them on me.
"Sit down on the bed, Sammy," he said, his first words since he'd begun.
I sat down and leaned back on my elbows as he toed his sneakers off. He unbuttoned his jeans and worked the zipper down. Henry leaned over me then, bending at the waist as his fingers gripped the elastic of my boxers.
"Lift your butt so I can pull these things off you," he told me, his voice hoarse with desire. His underwear-covered dick had found the open fly of his jeans and leaned heavily through it.
I lifted my backside and he yanked my underwear down to my knees, pulling my seven inches down with them. My pecker escaped and swung back against my belly. He pulled them down over my feet and dropped them to the floor.
Henry wasted no time in shoving his jeans and briefs over his butt and down to his knees. He quickly pushed them off and stood naked before me.
"I've been dreaming of this since we were driving over to the longhouse last Saturday," he said and sank to his knees between my legs.
His lips moved to my balls, his tongue darting out to lick them. His fingertips excited the hair on my thighs as they caressed their way toward my body. His tongue found the root of my pecker and began to make its way along the cumchute toward the head.
His lips stretched as they felt their way down onto the widening head of my pole until they had closed around the shaft behind it. His tongue joined in the play then, swabbing my knob.
I was leaking. Henry looked up at me as his face sank down the length of my dick, his fingers having found my nipples. I smiled down at him, then laid back to give myself up to his ministrations.
He began to bob. His fingers twisted both nipples at the same time.
In no time at all, I was riding waves of pleasure that spread out from my pecker to every pore of my body.
I didn't last long.
Henry swallowed everything I could give him.
I was drained from my sexual release. At the same time, I was exhilarated. I wanted more. I needed more.
I pulled him up on the bed with me, his body on mine, and kissed him. My dick stayed hard and began to leak again as he ground his crotch against mine.
"I want to taste you," I told him, breaking from our kiss. Before he could respond, I rolled him over and was kissing my way down his chest. His legs spread to ride my flanks. As I moved lower, he crossed his ankles behind me and his heels rode my fanny.
My chin touched the flared head of his dick riding his abs and I honed in on it. My lips nibbled at it as I brought my hand up to pull it out from him so that I could take it into my mouth.
I swallowed him slowly, relishing the touch of each vein on my tongue as my nose moved toward his glistening black pubes.
He moaned as the head of his dick slipped into my throat. I almost gagged, but I wanted to take all of him. I needed to. I swallowed and his knob was there massaging my tonsils as, for the first time, my nose pressed into the tight black curls that surrounded his pole.
"Fuck!" Henry grunted. "It feels so good. You're the best ever, Sammy!" His hands found the back of my head and his hips began to move and he started to fuck my face.
"I'm close!" he groaned.
I took him all the way to the root again.
"No. Not like this, Sammy." He held my head and squirmed away until his pecker popped from my mouth.
I looked up at him quizzically, letting him slip out of my mouth..
"I was getting real close there." He smiled back at me and reached out to cup my cheek. "I want to cum with you inside me, Cousin."
"You mean you want me to fuck you before I suck you off?" I asked, making sure I understood him.
"Yeah. Only, I want to ride you." He laughed and patted the back of my head. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Me doing all the work?"
"If that's what you want, sure." I stood and picked up my jeans to retrieve a rubber before climbing up on the bed beside him. "Want me to lie down on my back and you straddle me?" I asked and stroked my dick.
He sat up and leaned over to kiss the tip of my pole. "I'm getting real fond of this thing of yours," he said as he got to his knees beside me.
"You're going to have to put this on me," I told him and handed him the packet. I watched as he opened and spread the rubber over my head before unrolling it down the shaft.
When he had the raincoat in place, Henry raised his left leg and straddled my chest. He still held my pole between his legs. He scooted down my front, his fanny barely skimming my abs. When he felt the knob press into his asscheek, he hiked his butt and pulled my dick across that cheek to his cleavage.
When he had it wedged up against his hole, he looked down at me and asked: "Can I kiss you while it's going in?" He grinned and wiggled his butt around on me while he waited for me to answer.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," I told him.
He bent forward, his ass moving down and opening up for my entrance. My arms went under his, my hands spreading across his back, as I raised my head to meet his lips.
His hands held my face and he kissed me hungrily as he pushed his backside down onto me. When I was all the way in him, he sat up and ground his ass against my pubes.
"Yeah," he whispered.
I reached between his legs and took him in my hand. He'd lost some of his hardness as he impaled himself but it quickly returned with my fingers curled around his pole.
"Stroke me slow, Sammy. Let's make this last a while," he said and raised himself to the point where only my knob was still in him. He slowly sat back down, taking all of me back into him. That became our rhythm, my dick in his butt and his in my fist.
Henry rode me, his head arched back and his fingers massaging my pecs as his ass massaged my pecker inside him. The feel of him, the heat of him, the smell of him stayed with me as I rode the waves of pleasure coursing through me. We became more completely one than I'd ever been with anyone. Only the blond of my dreams carried me along the path of my sexuality as well as this teen-aged cousin of mine was doing.
I understood without thought that I was where I belonged. That I was making love in the way that was most complete for me.
My dick was gripped hard as Henry lowered himself on it. "Oh!" he mewled as his whole ass clamped down on my pole like a vise. He stiffened as I opened my eyes and tried to focus on him. Hot drops pelted my chest and cooled almost immediately as he began to cum on me.
Instinctively, I pulled some of my pole out of him, pressing my butt hard into the mattress. I pushed back into his tight chute that grabbed at each fraction of an inch that pushed into him. It was enough. I started cumming deep in his butt. With him.
* * *
He lay on top of me, his lips against my neck. Our breathing had returned to normal and our bodies were relaxed. His warmth against me felt comfortable. My hands cupped his buttcheeks.
"I want you to stay the night, Henry. I want us to make love together through the night." I felt his body stiffen against me. A moment later, I felt a shudder course through him and he started to lift off me. "What's the matter?" I demanded and held him to me, my hands moving up to his shoulders.
"You'll understand soon enough, Sammy," he mumbled against my ear and I heard the fear beneath his voice. Fear and something else.
"No," I grumbled. "You said that last week. I don't understand anything except that you've come to mean a lot to me since then -- a lot more than I can explain even to myself right now. I want to know why you're afraid to be here at night. I want to know why your father was afraid to even come out of the house last Friday night."
He raised his head and looked down into my face.
"I want some answers, Henry," I told him.
He sighed and hugged himself tight against me. "Sammy, were you gay before you came up here last weekend?"
I searched his eyes for a hidden meaning, the direction he might be setting for us with his question. "I didn't think I was," I said slowly.
"I'll bet you had one humdinger of a dream your first night here, didn't you? And a sore butt the next morning?"
My eyes bulged. "How did you know?" I whispered.
He lifted off of me completely but kept eye contact as I turned on my side to face him. "Every boy on this mountain -- those who've entered puberty, I should say -- every one of us has sucked dick and had his butt porked."
"The fuck you say!"
"It's true. And we don't have sex with girls until we get married. So, we keep fucking around with each other to get rid of the blue balls."
I tried to get a grip on this. It was hard to imagine fifty to a hundred teen-aged boys having sex with each other. "That'd make all of you gay, wouldn't it?"
"Not really. It's mostly the older boys diddling the younger ones -- and then only once in a while. And all of them have me and another boy on the other side of the mountain."
"Yeah, Sammy. I like dick; I like to get fucked. So does the other guy. Most of the other boys on the mountain just do it to help out their brother or someone else they're real close to."
"You're saying that you're pretty popular then?"
"Yeah -- at least, I was."
"What do you mean?"
"Two weeks ago, old Mr. Sam called a meeting of all the boys on the mountain -- those old enough to do something with their dicks. One of us was needed to become your fucktoy once you got up here. I volunteered faster than the other boy did."
"I hope you don't mind. There are some of the Taylor boys who're real good- looking."
"Like I said, I've grown pretty fond of you. But this..."
"Why not? Most of the others are going to end up married with a couple of kids. It's going to take a lot of persuading from old Mr. Sam to get me to put my dick in a girl. Besides, we had some pictures of you, so I knew I was getting a real good-looking man."
"But how did old Mr. Sam know I'd even be interested?"
Henry shook his head slowly and looked deep into my eyes. "Sammy, old Mr. Sam gets every boy's cherry when it's time. It's been that way since at least my Daddy's time." He leaned close and kissed my chin. "I'll bet you had two pretty wild dreams up here last week."
He leaned back and looked into my face. "Blond, tall, good-looking as all hell, young, and with a dick bigger than mine?"
"And he's uncut, too, ain't he?"
"How did you know?" I demanded louder than I intended.
"Sammy, that blond you think is a dream is your -- our -- great-granddaddy."
"You're crazy!" I sat up and turned away from him. What he was saying was impossible. "This old Mr. Sam has got to be at least a hundred years old, Henry."
"He's a hundred and three."
"No old man could fuck for hours like..." I felt my whole body burn as I realized what I was admitting to.
"Old Mr. Sam can, Sammy -- and you are his," Henry said softly. "Nobody is allowed to fuck you, except him."
"But you said you'd volunteered to be my fucktoy?" I looked over my shoulder at him.
"Right. We suck and you fuck." He grinned. "Fortunately all the way around, I like what you do to me."
"And if I want you to fuck me?"
"Old Mr. Sam gets downright possessive about what he's laid claim to. I don't cotton to making him mad at me. You better not, either."
I pushed off the bed and began to pace from the bed to the door and back again. "Let's say that what you're saying is true..." I knew better than that but I didn't want to hurt Henry's feelings completely. "You're saying he's fucked two generations of Taylor boys ... And you're saying he can make a man want him inside him."
"You also said you guys up here do it with each other too?" He nodded. "So, why can't you and I do it -- I mean, why can't I let you fuck me?"
Henry sighed and sat up. His hands went to his lap and covered his dick and balls. "Because you're Sammy Taylor. No boy on this mountain is named Samuel Adams Taylor -- just you. And your daddy and his daddy before you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"We're all family here, Sammy -- but even families have their pecking order. In ours, the Sam Taylors are at the very top of that order."
"Okay, so we've invested your money the past three generations and made all of you rich."
"Sammy, not a single Taylor comes onto this property after nightfall -- unless old Mr. Sam himself invites him. When he gets that invite, that Taylor had better get his butt up here."
"What's a hundred-year-old man going to do to someone our ages?"
"There are tales of strangers who've come up on the mountain -- who've trespassed on this piece of land. They got killed up here and, from what I hear, it wasn't pretty."
"Are you saying our great-grandfather is some kind of psychopathic murderer?"
Henry shook his head. "No, Sammy. He just protects what's his. His land. His family. His lover."
"You." He stood and started gathering his clothes.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"It's getting on to suppertime, Sammy; and I'm a hungry, growing boy." He pulled on his briefs and jeans quickly. "Besides, I think you have a lot of things to think about tonight. Alone." He pulled his tee-shirt over his head and slipped his sneakers on. "Yeah, right. You won't be alone after it gets dark."
"Thanks loads. Even if I believed half of what you're saying..."
"Ask old Mr. Sam when he's fucking you good tonight," he said from the doorway. "Maybe he'll explain it to you so you'll believe it."